


you find me in dreams too

by kangelique



Series: The Captain Swan Playlist [16]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1980s, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Basically Emma and Killian are timeless, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Gen, Insomnia, Love Confessions, Memories, Minor Mystery, Revenge, Smut, Therapy, already in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:35:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25664494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kangelique/pseuds/kangelique
Summary: Unacceptable - this is what foster parents, social workers, and countless group homes have labeled Emma Swan.For years, the monsters under her bed are in her head. They bring nightmares so intense she’s there, living a different era, loving a stranger, awakening to a freshly broken heart.She’s used to people walking on eggshells around her, scared she’ll be triggered into another hallucination on the road. Until Mary Margaret takes up the role of overbearing mother and drags her to dream interpretation.But who can interpret nightmares that feel like memories, feel like home?And worse. How can she admit she’s falling for the guy with the calloused hands, ocean blue eyes, and raven hair that meets her every time she closes her eyes?She can’t. Except for when August Booth claims he’s coming.The man from her nightmares is coming and he’s going to tell her why her entire existence is wrong.Of course her only response to that is What. The. Fuck.
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Series: The Captain Swan Playlist [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1327670
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	1. The Warning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back with another soulmate story. Updates every week -maybe? I'm trying to catch up on my other stories, but this one's plot is finished. I'm excited to share it, it came to me as an idea in March and didn't grow wings until now. Enjoy!

**Chapter 1: The Warning**

Emma slammed the door shut, successfully shutting out the afternoon chaos erupting on the streets as New Yorkers honked horns and cursed the lights and a long line of yellow cabs mixed in with cars just as anxious to get home for the evening. 

The late February chill clung to her bones even as the apartment’s heat wrapped around her, evaporating the goosebumps that’d broken along her arms for more than the grey mush of clouds promising a hearty snowfall. Her back still ached, movements stiff from sitting in her bug for too long, but she strolled down the hall eager to get away from the day. 

Eager to get away from the skip’s last words before she’d dropped him off at the precinct. _“He’s coming, Emma.”_ What the hell did that mean? She didn’t even want to think how he’d known her name in the first place. As far as introductions ago, they hadn’t any but his grim face on her file and her face as he handcuffed him, the usual “ _Hey there, Booth, you’re under arrest for helping embezzle from your employer.”_

The entire case had fallen right on her lap, too easy. Booth had jumped into a sprint the moment he saw her turning the corner, and he’d run, but his pace was too calculated, steps too memorized, looks too practiced, and he’d barely protested, actually _surrendering_ his hands. Almost like he wanted to get caught, but why?

“Hey, how was it?” Mary Margaret asked as Emma hovered by the threshold, hand gripping the knob in case she did need a minute to freak out over the shiver of anticipation his words had shot through her spine. Not fear. Fear made more sense, but there’d been no fear. Just her heart lurching, suddenly impatient like a predator ready to strike it’s prey. 

_Shit._

“Okay what happened?” Mary Margaret patted the space next to her and Emma huffed out a heavy breath as she dropped onto the bed, starfishing herself for a moment as Mary Margaret continued folding neatly. She cast her a concerned look that Emma averted by closing her eyes. “You don’t seem too happy.”

Emma shook her head, and shrugged. “It’s probably nothing. The dude just said something weird.” Her lips twisted, his words curling around her gut and tugging for attention. “This whole night has been weird, I don’t even know why they gave me his case in the first place. The idiots who helped are usually for the ones on their trial period. I should have been after Ryan something -you know the one who did the _actual_ crime.”

“What did he say?”

“What?”

“You said he said something weird.”

“Oh.” Emma blinked, and narrowed her eyes as she finally got a good look at her. A pencil was still nudged between her ear and pixie cut, alluding to the book reports she’d been grading. The Victoria’s Secret perfume still oozed from her plunging neckline, fresh and new, and by the slight frown Mary Margaret was trying to hide behind various blouses, Emma guessed David was a no-show. “Yeah, no. Forget about it. How was your night?”

Her bottom lip jutted out and her fingers tangled in the sleeves. “David still hasn’t asked me out,” she replied gruffly. 

Emma rolled her eyes. “You mean he still hasn’t gotten his shit together.”

“He got a job!” Mary Margaret grimaced. 

Getting a job was nothing next to the list of why she was in over her head: he was halfway married, he and his brother were dependent on George Nolan’s inheritance, and he _cared_ about Kathryn.

Not loved, but cared, and that was powerful. 

Emma had settled a couple times to know the difference. Walsh Ozman was an example. Safe, loving, _boring._

“Okay I know that’s not what you mean,” she groaned, burying her face in her hands. “And I am trying to be a good person here, is it really cheating if they’re not married yet?”

“It is if they’re engaged,” Emma said softly. 

“Not by choice,” she replied quickly. 

“Apparently their parents didn’t get the memo.” Her nose scrunched. “Who even does arranged marriages now anyway? It’s the twenty first century.” 

“Tell that to George,” she muttered. 

“David can tell him,” Emma quipped as she stumbled to her feet and headed for the door. 

Mary Margaret stopped rolling a pair of socks and a scream crept up Emma’s throat. 

“ Wait, what about dinner?”

Months and months of _this,_ friends pausing their lives for her, looking at her like they could prevent another accident if they asked the same question every day, was what kept the throb between her temples pulsating with enthusiasm. Not her health, but this ridiculous thing Mary Margaret, even her coworkers, had for putting her first. 

She wasn’t a kid, some unlucky teenager to be dealt with, she was just ready to isolate herself for the night and hope counting sheep failed. 

“Not hungry,” she stomped. 

“Emma,” came Mary Margaret’s lowered voice, like a plea. Her disapproval drowned Emma’s ears because she was right, _of course_ she was right and at least someone was trying to make sure she survived but…

“I had a poptart this morning.”

“Come on, didn’t the doctors say you’re supposed to be eating better? You skip breakfast too much, and NO, no, poptarts are not breakfast, Emma, don’t start.”

“Look I’m fine, you don’t have to worry about me,” Emma snapped, and winced. 

All in all, she was better off alone. But Mary Margaret didn’t deserve that. 

Emma turned around to squeeze her shoulder lightly. “I’m sorry,” she sighed. “Just hang in there, alright? I’m sure David will figure something out. Besides Kathryn doesn’t want to marry him either. Can’t have a wedding when the two main people want to bail.”

Mary Margaret glared at her. “You’re doing it again, you’re avoiding your issues.”

Well, that backfired. 

She took a step back. “I don’t have any issues.”

_Unacceptable_ her foster parents used to say. 

Her behavior, her nightmares, her appearance all unacceptable. 

But then she met Mary Margaret and she took her unacceptable everything with a smile and a hug. 

“I’m tired,” Emma swallowed thickly. Today was not a day for a smile and a hug. “I think I’m gonna go to bed.” 

“Sure you don’t want to eat? There’s a lot of leftovers and I think Little Caesar’s is still open if you want-”

“I need to think,” she said, eyebrows furrowed. _He’s coming, Emma._ Who was? 

“Don’t forget your appointment’s at ten.”

“How could I forget,” she muttered as she walked down the hall. 

Her steps dragged and her hand hovered over the knob. Her other hand freezed midway on her shoulder, about to shed her leather jacket to the floor, when she clutched at it for strength. 

Old tendrils of empty air greeted her, waving her in, curling their long fingers around her resolve to sleep in the living room, insisting there was no other way to help Mary Margaret believe all her lies.

Back in the group homes, she’d imagined one day she would take the time to go to Home Depot to pick her favorite wall color, or finally buy a four poster bed that didn’t creak with every roll.

Funny how she’d carried the bareness into this room. Keeping the ancient carpet and beige curtains that’d come with the apartment when she and Mary Margaret had first visited. Ignoring the ZzzQuill bottle on the nightstand, she kicked her boots against the half-filled drawers. The bright yellow paint had faded from the walls, peeled by nail marks to reveal another coat. Scattered thumbtacks tempted her to hang pictures she didn’t have.The queen sized bed looked out of place, with the couple pillows Emma recoiled from like they were on fire, stealing her chance to pace. She caught the peeking dufflebag in the closet, holding the essentials that would take her to a new city -maybe Boston, she’d always wanted to try Boston- for when Mary Margaret realized it was too much. 

Nothing had changed, except for her age and her relief to be her own problem. 

She’d warned Mary Margaret she wasn’t the roommate type.

Eventually the expanse of the kitchen, all available cabinets and marble counter for takeout and large window view of Central Park had won Mary Margaret over and half-convinced Emma because she’d only been humoring her.

Later, it’d turned out she _could be_ the roommate type, but as Mary Margaret made an effort to transform her room into hers with her flowery bedsheets and recipe books stacked on the drawer and sewing kit in the closet, Emma didn’t bother changing the broken lightbulb in hers.

Stakeouts and research gripped her shoulders and wrapped around her mind, but she traded her shirt and jeans for her flannel pajamas with extra sluggish hands.

Her heart pounded as she settled under the comforter. 

Sleep jabbed an anxious finger at her body and, too fast, black seeped into the edges of her vision. 

_“You good?”_

_Emma nodded absentmindly. “Great,” she mumbled, even though her eyes were unseeing, her steps walking on burning coals, and her bones floated outside of herself, watching as she swallowed the bile of something wrong, something bad, before offering him her smile -shaky, clouded by gut feeling- that reassured no one staring their way._

_I_ _n their faces, their smiles slipped with hers. They questioned why she’d returned with a crumpled expression, confidence ripped from her shoulders, and another ring added to the single sparkling diamond adorning her left hand._

_The curious viewers in fedora hats, waving the American flag, their eyes squinting into binoculars toward the sky, and polaroids in their expectant hands hadn’t seen her slow entrance. Newscasters stood with microphones glued to their mouths, ready to dictate_ the _moment for the nation, while the rest of the families were either staring into the sky wrapped in bulky coats to fend off the January crisp or setting aside their 21 Jump Street time at home to tune into this._

_Even the sky was clear. Promising. Perfect._

_Graham’s name was scrawled on the tag on his uniform, slightly puffed chest ringing a humble proud while an M was missing from the makeshift tag she’d smacked against her black silk blouse, still wrinkled from the strong, desperate to memorize hands that’d traced the sides of her waist and indented his thumbs where they’d pressed to her ribs forever ago._

_Her own thumb and forefinger continued to stroke the inner edge of the silver ring in weak hopes of a pivot. They were ready, weren’t they?_

_“Earth to Emma.” Graham ducked his head and startled her with the concern swirling in his dark brown eyes, eager to grab the hints her face couldn’t help surfacing as her heart pounded._

_She looked at him, features transforming to combat whatever worry was on his. “I’m serious, I’m good. Don’t think I forgot about that chicken pot pie you owe me,” she joked, but her laughter died quickly._

_He chuckled. “Sometimes the cliches are true.”_

_Innocent times twitched on the corner of her mouth. “In your case, yep.” Her lips fell, and her casual shrug didn’t convince her. “Anyway yeah. He’s going to the moon.”_

_He grinned, buying her lie, and knocked their shoulders lightly. “All of them. We’re about to make history, Em, a little enthusiasm wouldn’t hurt.”_

_“Right. Last minute nerves, I guess.”_

_“Don’t be. He’s coming back.” The affirming nod he gave her was met by an inevitable frown and his usually soft, caring voice tightened the coils in her stomach and kept the shiver stuck to her spine._

_He was a mediator, but right now doubts, fierce and punishing, crept into the months of hard research and planning and told her to stop. Just stop. Stop the entire project. Double check again._

_Graham’s thumb brushed her arm. “He’s coming, Emma.” And she clutched the ring to her heart, fisting it until her knuckles were white._

_They were fine. This would work._

_She inhaled a deep breath. “Do it.”_

**  
  
  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Thoughts?


	2. The Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there was any confusion in the first chapter. Everything that's in italics is a flashback/memory. If you're still reading, thanks for giving this a shot!

**Chapter 2: The Promise**

Last night’s dream - nightmare? Memory, maybe? Whatever the hell it was- had left its dirty evidence on her face as she poked her pale cheeks in an effort to force some color under her fingers. 

She pinched the bridge of her nose when _“Do it”_ and _“He’s coming back, Emma_ ” echoed through her ears again, shaking her into gripping the sides of the sink tighter. Weirdly enough, the fingers of her right hand were still cramped and her left hand seemed too light. 

She’d never been one for accessories, but if she blinked she swore there was the faded circle indentation of an engagement ring. Suddenly squeezing her eyes shut, she released a long sigh and shook her head of the crap that’d startled her awake at three in the morning. _Of course,_ because when was the last time she hadn’t awoken to this ache, pure ache in her chest? For hours, she’d stared at the ceiling, hands clasped against her collarbone when she hadn’t worn a necklace in years. 

She licked her lips and straightened. Time to get her shit together. No matter what Archie would notice the dark circles under her eyes anyway, even darker expression when she sat. Plus she couldn’t disappoint Mary Margaret. Not when her alarm hadn’t sounded, but she’d left Emma a plate of scrambled eggs and a brewing coffee pot before she ran to catch the bus to school. 

Another sigh as she tucked her hair behind her ear. Ingrid - probably the only decent foster parent she’d ever had- had been like that too. Her remedy had been hot cocoa with cinnamon and caressing her hair as many times as Emma’s hyperventilating needed. Ingrid hadn’t believed in therapy, said they were charlatans, and all you needed to overcome a traumatic experience was love. Maybe if Emma hadn’t arrived from school, excited to show Ingrid the Mother’s Day card she’d made during study hall, to find Ingrid stabbed to death with shards of glass. And _worse_ , learning it was willingly, Emma might have thought Ingrid was onto something, onto love accomplishing anything but iron bars around Emma’s heart. 

9:37 AM. Hopefully that Leroy Nelson came out complaining he didn’t get enough time, do everyone a favor. Doubtful, but Emma snatched her leather jacket from the hanger and crossed her fingers. 

*********

“Emma hi,” Dr. Hopper said with a easy smile as he pushed the glasses up his nose and stepped aside, nodding as he held the door open. “It’s great to see you today, why don’t you take a seat while I get everything ready, okay?”

Not for the first time, Emma questioned if his house looked like his office because of the casual leather couch pressed to the wall, the black and white photographs of plays pinned to the homey yellow wallpaper, and the simple brown blinds giving her a peek into Central Park. 

Come rain or shine, the blinds never fully opened to reveal the outside distractions, but best of all no posters quoting something positive or screaming a motivating speech were taped anywhere on his desk. The couple lamps he sometimes turned on to illuminate a faint semblance of privacy helped too, and maybe it was that the man himself in his cardigan and large mug of coffee and the no pressure in his gaze that made her believe it couldn’t hurt to talk about it, to _try._

She walked in slowly and tugged the ends of her hair to her lapels as she found her favorite armchair and plopped on it. “So Grumpy’s session ended earlier today, huh?” Damn her luck.

“Grumpy?” Emma shrugged at his puzzled frown. The title was fitting. She’d never seen that guy smile, but then again she never smiled here either. Archie’s eyes widened and laughter creased the corners of his mouth. “Oh, you’re talking about Leroy, yes, yes, well he didn’t have an appointment today actually. Called in to cancel and said he was proposing tonight.” 

Her jaw dropped and she almost jumped to her feet. “ _What?_ Wait, like marriage? To who?”

Archie settled into the other armchair across from her, catching her file -thin since Emma wasn’t a talker by nature-and placing it back on the clipboard with his hands clasped. “It’s very surprising, isn’t it? But yes, marriage. I’m very proud of him, very happy. And the woman he loves is beautiful, so sweet too, she’s good for him. For a long time I didn’t think he’d ever take my advice but he went, bought the ring, and I’m certain her answer will be yes.”

“Wow,” Emma muttered. _Leroy freaking Nelson?_

“Indeed, but how about you, Emma, how was your week?”

“It was, uh, uneventful.” Except for Booth’s words yesterday, a piece of cake. “Just work stuff.”

Archie nodded, tilting his head a bit. “And what can you tell me about work?”

She blew a raspberry. “I don’t know, I mean it’s just work. You know I’m in bailbonds. I did...catch a guy yesterday who’d skipped bail though.”

“That’s great, congratulations.”

“Thanks but…”

His eyebrows furrowed. “But it’s to my observation that you don’t seem happy about this. I imagine catching criminals like this take a lot of work, they call for you to-”

Emma groaned. “Please don’t say reward yourself.”

“Tell me, Emma, what would be so bad in you rewarding yourself for all the effort you put into finding these people?” Archie asked, unfazed, and Emma stiffened. “Okay, we can set that aside for now. But you didn’t confirm nor neglect my observation.”

She bit her lip. “My roommate said the same thing.”

“Well, why do you think they said that?”

“Because of something I said to her. Just something the guy I’d caught said to me and it was weird so…” 

“What is it about what he said that you found so strange?” 

Emma shook her head. “That doesn’t matter.”

“It does if you’re still thinking about it.”

“Who said I was,” she snapped. 

“You brought it up, which means it had to be on your mind.”

“Fine, can we just talk about something else,” Emma’s foot tapped. 

“Very well,” Archie said simply and leaned back into his seat. She leaned back too, crossing her arms as he quickly wrote something into his notes. He had a spiral open, but her answers didn’t even fill half the page. That wasn’t a good sign, right? Their sessions were always summed in a couple sentences, and by the lines crinkling on Archie’s forehead they weren’t progress.

Emma sighed. “It’s okay to tell me this isn’t working out. Trust me, I’m not going to take it personally, I know I’m not the easiest patient.” 

Archie blinked. “Why do you think that?”

“Come on, we sit here talking for an hour about nothing and get nowhere!”

“That’s not true. Our last meeting you completely skipped over my questions, or gave me vague responses and that’s okay,” Archie rushed to assure her as she flashed him a frown. “What I’m saying is, you have years of walls that we’re not going to bring down in an hour. But today you shared and that alone shows that you want to be here, you _do_ have things you want to get off your chest. Otherwise you could have canceled your appointment like Leroy. I don’t expect you to start trusting me out of the blue, Emma, to see growth takes time.” 

She was silent for a moment. 

Growth, _healing_ sounded like a dream. A really good dream.

But healing couldn’t compete with a river of adults who’d scowled at her like it was her fault school counselors kept calling her to their office and speaking to her like she was a wounded animal ready to run from their concerns about everything ok at home. But even though her transient life avoided digging roots, her nightmares were the opposite.

Entwining into every relationship that dissolved after second base, smearing the hands grabbing hers with dirt they had no interest in cleaning, and making them realize she was too anchored in the past to ever mix their environment with her seriously -not that she was looking for anyone to wake up with her at odd hours of the night. 

And yet. Archie wasn’t wrong. But life had taught her to leave before she was left. Disappoint before she was disappointed. Cut everything with potential before it could cut her, and _this_ might have potential and her chest would explode if she didn’t spill. 

“Okay,” Emma whispered, a moment of weakness. 

“Okay,” Archie leaned his elbows on his knees, meaning business. “So then how about you tell me more about your accident.”

Her shoulders arched with her sharp intake of breath. “It was three months ago.”

“Anything you can recall.”

She pinched her eyebrows together. “Why, what does it have to do with right now?”

“Well from what I can see, it’s the whole reason you’re here.”

“No, my friend is the reason I’m here, I didn’t want to do this but she thought- I don’t know,” Emma sighed. 

“I’m assuming she thought you might benefit from this,” Archie supplied gently. “I suppose another question would be why would she think that, what about your accident cause her to turn to therapy?”

Her palms smacked against her thighs. “Because she thinks I was hallucinating! But I wasn’t and I wasn’t drunk either. I just went to the bar for a drink, and the only reason I remember going there was because I’d been tracking this woman Cora and she was a pain in my ass to track down but I finally got her that night. It wasn’t even late, probably eleven, and then I get in my car and I’m going home when I see the wolf and it’s...just there. Standing there. Looking at me. And then obviously I don’t want to hit it and I lose control of the car.”

“Mm.” Archie considered “Why did this wolf alarm you so much?”

“I know it sounds stupid,” Emma said. “Wolfs in New York are impossible but-”

“But in Chicago a baby alligator was spotted in Humbolt Park’s lake. That is also impossible and yet it happened, people saw it, called Animal Control, and put it on the news.”

“You believe me,” she breathed. 

“I believe there was something about this creature that made you panic. I mean in the short time I’ve known you, Emma, you’re a quick thinker. Another possible reaction would have been to stop the car altogether or ignore it, go around it, but there was enough time for you to see it was staring at you.”

Emma shook her head. “It was weird, it felt…”

“Yes?”

“Familiar, I guess. I know I didn’t _want_ to hurt it but there was something more.”

“Well,” Archie cleared his throat. “I’m going to ask you to think about it and bring your thoughts on it for the next session.”

  
  


**********

_Emma gasped into the kiss when her back smacked into the wall, “Ow,” she half laughed, half sighed as soon as his hands, impatient and grasping blindly in the dark, untucked her shirt from her mini-skirt and slipped under the hem, palms sliding up her skin to where he cupped both breasts and stroked her nipples through her bra. They stiffened further, pressing harshly to the vintage that was suddenly too constricting, worse than wearing a corset as he pumped her, holding them steady to his swirling thumb even as her chest rose and the ache between her legs prompt her to clench her thighs together tightly as his fingers curled and ripped the bra off with a growl and in a flash he was closing his mouth around her nipple and sucking it hard._

_“Apologies, love,” he mumbled, not sounding apologetic at all as he licked and nibbled and finally suckled again. All the while his other hand stroked her breast, pinching and tweaking her nipple between his fingers roughly as he rubbed himself against her thigh. Her legs parted as she writhed under him, the moans he was vibrating into her skin mixing with the moans falling past her lips as his ministrations quickened, as desperate as she was to come._

_“Oh my god, don’t stop,” she panted as her hand fell from his head to the nape of his neck, urging his face closer as her fingers tangled with the locks and he released her breast with a pop to drag hot, open mouth kisses up to her collarbone as his other hand covered hers over her nub._

_“Allow me, darling,” he whispered and she nodded weakly, immediately letting him pull her wrist away so his thumb rubbed her clit instead. Slowly at first, so slow the circles he was tracing made her want to cry or scream at him, something she made clear as she clawed at his scalp and he chuckled, actually chuckled._

_“Killian I swear to god if you don’t-” she gasped when he jabbed a finger inside her. Not half a second later he thrust a second finger in and they slid easily through her folds, causing her to huff as he prolonged the drag upward, teasingly wiggling the tips as her arousal soaked his hand. She didn’t have to look down to know her need was glistening over his knuckles and_ thank god _he’d had the good sense to remove her panties in the hallway because...because...she couldn’t think, mind blanking when he swirled his fingers, doing a full languid circle, and she bit her lip as her hips rolled of their own volition._

_“Like that, Swan?” he smirked, chapped -always chapped, did he never use the lipbalm she bought him?- lips moved along the edge of her ear, kissing the simple white pearl earring, and he flicked his tongue into the lobe at the same time he suddenly curled his fingers, making her walls clamp. A shudder trembled her spine, aware of what was coming, fucking herself nowhere compared to the way he did._

_“Love that,” she breathed and he finally,_ finally _started moving his fingers in. And out. In. And out. In and out, in and out until her cheeks were flushed with her heavy breathing mirroring his own and her eyes were caught between fluttering and opening so she wouldn’t miss the way he studied her. His gaze was set straight on her face as her teeth dug into her bottom lip with every plunge back in, every wild twist and and perfect bend that had her back arching off the wall and exposing her neck to his grazing stubble as she threw her head back, mouth open, moans clogging her throat, as she rode his fingers eagerly, hips slamming into his hand sparking the fire in her belly to burst and sparking a grunt against her jaw._

_“That’s it, Emma, darling, come for me, come for me before I’m to leave.”_

_“I’m so close, Killian I’m so close.” He continued pushing his two fingers in and out in a steady rhythm, taking her higher and higher as her orgasm built to the point that her skin was on fire, and then he found_ the _spot and abruptly curled, just the right way and she screamed, waves of pleasures washing over her quivering arms as her hands tried grasping his shoulders for support. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as he fucked her through it, her owns thrusts against his soaked hand turning sloppy as her legs turned to jelly and his staggered breathing matched hers. When she was done, walls gone slack around his fingers, they both stood there trying to gain control of their heavy panting as beads of sweat traveled down her throat._

_“You alright, love?” he asked, always making sure, and she nodded weakly._

_“Are you kidding, I missed this,” she smiled and lightly rubbed her nose with his as she bumped their foreheads. Her lips flicked down slightly as years and years of waiting were in her hands as she slid them over his biceps and back to his shoulders to sift her fingers up his neck. His locks wrapped around them easily and she shook her head as she caressed the scar on his cheek, thumbing his pointy ears because patience was his virtue. Not hers. Never hers. “I missed us.”_

_“You didn’t recall,” he said grimly and she frowned. “Sometimes I believe it to be best. Two lives in your head can be maddening, love, you needn’t deserve my yearning to interrupt your otherwise banner lifestyle. I-”_

_“Hey.” She cupped his face, and it was her turn to wait for his eyes to meet hers. The desire in them had faded to a subtle dark blue and competed with memories. He had a thing for romantizing the bad -even Shakespeare had noticed-and so did she, and his effort to restore his crumpled features -for her, because he didn’t have a selfish bone in his body- reminded her she hadn’t been the only one walking around the socioeconomic changes with a piece of her heart missing. “Don’t say that. I miss you, I always miss you. I don’t care if I don’t remember, I miss you anyway, okay? You can interrupt my life whenever you want.”_

_“Sweetheart, I do not wish to bestow such cruelty upon you,” his gaze was broken, his hope dwindling by the second she stared at him like he suddenly sprouted another head. What the hell was he talking about, was he-_

_“You’re leaving.” She swallowed. “Wait, you promised. You told me there was no getting rid of you, you said you would always-”_

_“Always be by your side, yes.” His eyebrows furrowed. “Emma, I would never leave you.”_

_“Why not?” she dared him numbly. “All my life, everyone I loved abandoned me.”_

_“I didn’t abandon you. I simply cannot-”_

_“Think of tomorrow.” They both closed their eyes as she anxiously brushed her lips with his. “Now we don’t have to do what we do best, we don’t have to be alone, you’re going to be a part of something.”_

_The corners of his mouth twitched up. “Aye.” His palm caressed the innermost of her thigh and she bit her lip when his fingers, still buried deep inside her, moved with the hitch of her breath._

_“I want-” her lips were dry as she grinded._

_"As you wish,” he said and in a blur he was hitching up her thigh to his hip and her feet were jumping off the floor to wrap her legs around his waist as he quickly removed his hand to snake his arm around her waist instead as he fused his lips to hers. Their kiss was a mess of hurried tongues, grazing teeth, and the tilts of their heads trying to deepen it first as their mouths opened again and slanted against each other, careless of the saliva staining the corners of her lips as she drove all her attention into the sounds he was making. Her hands were everywhere, running along his arms, smoothing up his chest, undoing the few buttons of his polo shirt, and urging the hem up as her fingers lost themselves in his river of hair, tugging on the tuffets and smirking when he pressed her firmer against his chest and ignited the growing inferno in her belly as he passionately kissed her back._

_He swallowed her giggle when they tumbled onto the bed and submerged her back into pillows as he immediately began grinding himself against her thigh. Her lips parted and her eyes fluttered closed as she enjoyed the feeling of him so warm and heavy and hard, god he was so hard as he slowly drove them to impatience until he was nibbling and sucking on her lower lip, allowing her sighs to go free as the throbbing between her legs grew painful. With slightly unsteady hands, she managed to slide his belt off, the clattering of the metal lost to her ears when he ducked his head and captured her lips, both their hands pushing his pants down to reveal his thick bulge as their tongues dueled. One palm slid around her inner thigh, the callouses he’d always had in every era scratching her skin as softly as his stubble burned the sides of her mouth, and his fingers tiptoed towards where she wanted, needed him most, smearing his hand with her arousal and she opened her eyes in time for him to lick her off his fingers with a devilish smirk crooking his lips._

_"Delicious,” he purred._

_Without warning, she grasped his cock and a satisfied smile lifted her lips when he released a groan, spluttering the sound against the fingers halfway through his mouth. “My turn,” she said and pushing his shoulders back, she hooked her leg around the back of his ankle and threw all her strength into rolling them so it was his head that hit the pillow with a grunt and she was coming up to straddle his thighs as she continued stroking him, dragging her nails along his length and pumping him into the cup of her palm a couple times, loving how his breathing staggered, and his hands, sticky and wet flew to grab her hips as she bent forward, stomach contracting inward and mouth opening as she coated the tip of his cock with her heat, legs spreading wide as she ran herself slowly against him and slid back down until her ass was sitting on his knees and she was digging her nails into his thighs as she took him into her mouth, bobbing her head in time with the jerked thrusts as he hit the back of her throat and kept going._

_“Bloody minx,” he panted. “Love...are you certain...this isn’t hurting you?”_

_In response she sucked him harder, swallowing him, rolling her eyes when he tried to slow. He was rock hard inside her mouth, and she hallowed out her cheeks while his hips smacked into her face as she pumped him harder, faster, needing to give him something to remember, demanding him to come, just fucken come, stop holding back, until a gutteral groan caused his fingers to tangle in her hair past her ears and his seed spilled with a final spasm of his body. She released him with a pop, grinning as she licked her lips, and his palm curled around her neck he leaned forward to kiss her amarously, both of their moans echoing through their sliding tongues as they tasted each other._

_She broke away from their kiss to pull her shirt over her head at the same time the muscles in his biceps bulged with tearing his polo over his head and tossing it to the floor, ruffling his hair before she was climbing back to straddle his lap and sifting her fingers up his chest hair and pushing the locks back. Once she had a good grip on the nape of his neck, she closed her eyes as she sunk into him slowly, rolling her hips in time with his hesitantly at first, trying to find their rhythm as his cock nudged her walls apart, slipping slickly through her folds and filling her so good, so right, touching the hilt. She panted, beads of sweat already sprouting on her collarbone as he grasped her hips, thumbs branding her and fingers kneading into her ass as he helped her push and pull. In and out, in and out until she was gaining momentum, breasts bouncing erratically against his chest, hardened nipples brushing his face, and her nails dug into his shoulders, scraping his back as he met her thrust for thrust, giving as good as he got while his thumb wandered along her ribs and dipped past her stomach to rub her clit fiercely._

_“Don’t... Killian, don’t stop, I’m so close, I need..” She bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut to savor how he filled her completely, languidly moving inside her as their hips rocked together._

_“What do you need, Emma? Tell me, love, tell me what you need. Allow me to give it to you.”_

_“Yeah,” she nodded. “I just...fuck me,” she breathed. “Just fuck me so I know you’re coming back, so I know you-”_

_In one swift movement, he had rolled them around and it was miracle her scrambling legs managed to wrap around his waist as he plunged into her. She screamed, but then a groan reverberated against the creaking mattress as he rammed into her deeper, harder, finding_ the _spot that had stars breaking behind her eyelids as her palms cupped his butt cheeks, weakly encouraging him onto her as her chest heaved and a trembling swept through the arms she was desperately trying to snatch. Her orgasm exploded, dousing her in fire, but he didn’t stop, and a second later he came with a grunt, cock twitching, clenching her walls with the anticipation for his seed. He fucked her through it, pounding into her with abandon, dipping beautiful nothings into her lips as he dipped his tongue into her mouth and lavished it thoroughly, causing her to arch her back only for his hand to tangle her hair into his fist as one firm thrust had new, warm arousal soaking his cock as it rolled with his hips, turning her into one small quivering mess as he slowly softened inside her and her legs slipped past his hips to trail the back of his._

_“That was…”_

_“Not a one time thing,” she said firmly and he shook his head as he buried his face in the crook of her neck._

_“Most certainly.” He pulled back to look at her and she instantly cupped his cheeks. “Sweetheart, the future is nothing to be afraid of.”_

_“Maybe,” she sighed. “But still. It’s the first time they do this, that anyone does this. You can’t blame me for being scared.”_

_He smiled warmly. “I shall return to you. Don’t I always, hm?”_

_“Too late,” she frowned. “You take forever.”_

_“Aye, well they’ll be no getting rid of me once I do.”_

_Her eyes widened. “Promise?”_

_He kissed her lips sweetly._

_“Okay,” she nodded. “Just, don’t forget...come back to me,” she whispered._

_Suddenly, paws scratched at the door._

_“Wow, I’m surprised it took that long,” she laughed. “I guess it’s my turn to take Roger out for a walk?”_

  
  



End file.
